Loss of a Warchiefs Wife
by ScouterFight
Summary: The loss of her wife drives a grieving Warchief into the embrace of war once again. An assassin is hired/Cold revenge is desired/Dark blood stains the ground/The drums of war are going to sound


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Just a quick one-shot. The idea hit me like a truck and I could not concentrate on Shadowlands, so I knew I had to write this down before I could move on.

Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

Alina Duskweaver rolled her shoulders as she passed by the two Dreadguards standing guard outside of Grommash Hold, there were a lot of places she wanted to be now, and inside of the Hold was certainly not one of them. The Warchief was in a bad mood, constantly angry and annoyed with everything and everyone around her. It was a dangerous time for the people who worked in and around the Hold, nobody wanted to be near it when the Warchief was like this.

She had been that way ever since her wife had been murdered not even a week ago, Alina winced when she remembered that the assassination had happened only four days ago. Had it really only been four days, she wondered silently to herself. The last few days had felt like an eternity, she had not rested since the morning the day before the assassination, and even for an undead like her, it was beginning to affect her.

After nearly ten years of peace between the two major Fraction, a peace that had only been possible because of the arranged marriage between the Sylvanas Windrunner and Jaina Proudmoore, they were now standing on the brink of a new war. And Alina had a feeling that their Warchief would ensure that this one would be the last one fought between the Horde and the Alliance.

The assassin had only narrowly escaped after the deed had been done, slipping through the cracks of their defenses and search parties, with more luck than sense. They had found him three days later, hidden in a supposed safe house deep in the Stranglethorn Jungle. Counting his money and being completely unaware of what he had really done. Unaware of how much damage he had caused.

They had surprised him and had quickly overpowered him. Even a seasoned assassin like him had stood no chance against four deadly Dark-Rangers and a seriously pissed of Warchief. After locking him up and leaving him to the tender mercies of their dungeon master, their Warchief leaving before she could kill him to quickly, Alina and the other three Dark-Rangers had turned his hideout inside out. They had quickly found the contract, buried beneath the giant payment, at least six large chests filled to the brim with gold. The amount was worth a fortune, easily enough to finance a small army. Alina hadn't counted but if she had to guess she would say that it was at least hundreds, if not, even more, thousand gold coins.

While the contract itself already told them everything they would need to know about who had hired the assassin, their dungeon master had still been instructed to squeeze everything out of him.

Now they knew from whom the contract had come from. The job had been commissioned by one of the leaders of the Alliance. Alina had hoped that it would have been anybody else, a rich fool with a vendetta, or even just an arrogant assassin who thought that it would be a great feat of strength to do such a deed.

But no, it had come from one of the leaders of the Alliance, and now their Warchief was thirsting for revenge, for blood. They had been skeptical at first, of course, the contract could have always been a forgery, a trick to force the two fractions back into war with each other. But the amount of gold, the royal seal, which was both unusable for someone not of the same bloodline and also unforgeable, and the pure hate in the letter was enough to convince them, that it was the real deal.

The two Dreadguards at the front nodded at her, their yellow eyes followed her only briefly. She knew them well, excellent loyal soldiers with good heads on their shoulders. They were twins and had been part of the Forsaken since the day they had found their freedom.

The dark halls of the Hold were empty except for the two Dark Rangers standing in front of the door leading to the throne room.

"Is she in?" Alina asked softly, as she stepped towards them.

Denyelle and Thyala shared a look.

"Yes," Denyelle answered, with a strange look on her face.

"Everything alright?" Alina asked, her brows furrowing.

"She has been very angry today. I hope that you have good news," Thyala answered.

"I fear not, only really bad news."

"Well then best not to keep her waiting," Denyelle muttered.

"Good luck Alina," Thyala whispered.

She hummed softly. "We are standing at the cusp of a new war. Be careful sisters, the coming days are not going to be easy."

With one last nod towards them, she entered the Throne Room. As the door closed softly behind her, she noticed that the large throne on the opposite side of the room was empty. The Warchief was instead standing in the center of the room, over a war table with a large map spread out on top of it, the little figures that symbolized troops, ships and more, laid scattered on the ground all around the floor. The Warchief supported herself on the table, with her hands flat on top of it. Reports littered the floor around the Warchief's feet, crumbled and torn.

Her eyes were closed and her head slightly bowed. When the Warchief heard the door open and close she looked up. A dark look was on her face and in her eyes. Alina knew with certainty that the Warchief had already guessed why she was here and what she was going to say.

The Warchief gestured for her to come closer while she turned around, until she faced the large throne, her back now turned towards Alina, and her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back against the table. The Dark Ranger walked closer towards her Warchief, carefully avoiding the figures on the ground until she stood only a meter away from the table.

"Your report?" The Warchief's voice was cold, almost devoid of emotion. If Alina hadn't been so used to dealing with something like this she would have flinched.

"Yes, my lady. According to the report of the dungeon master and the information we found on the contract, we know now who hired the assassin."

"And?" Her voice was perilously low.

"It was Genn Greymane."

Her Warchief's shoulders slumped in defeat, and Alina could clearly see before her mind's eye how her eyes fell shut at the words.

Alina cleared her throat, "His royal seal was on the contract, and the assassin told us that he had seen Worgen hush through the underbrush when he had met with his client. While he confessed that he had never seen his contractors face, the person had obviously been a male. So, it couldn't have been either Genn's daughter nor his wife," The Warchief flinched almost violently at the word, "they are the only possible candidates who can use the Greymane seal. And we do not know if Greymane was even at the meeting, or if he had sent someone else. But it does not matter either way, because as I said the royal seal can only be used by his bloodline and of course his woman," this time Alina carefully avoided the word wife, or any associated term, "if she has undergone the proper ritual. On top is all we have no idea if anyone else is involved in this. Or how much the other leaders of the Alliance know about this. But if I had to guess I would say that some did."

"And why is that?" The Dark Ranger would have sworn that the voice of her Warchief could not have possibly grown colder than it had already been, but she was proven wrong.

"Because the amount of gold that we found, can't have come from Greymane alone, he isn't that wealthy, not anymore at least, not since the fall of Gilneas."

"I don't care, either way, let them all burn with the wolf." The Warchief growled.

The words shocked her, she looked up sharply from the report in her hands, "My lady?"

"We'll shall burn them all, I don't care if they agreed to this or not. Greymane could have never amassed so much gold without the others at least noticing. As far as I see it, they are all responsible and they are all going to pay. Summon the other leaders. I need to speak to them, we are going to war. As far as I see it the peace contract has been broken, I consider this an act of war and a declaration of war at the same time.

"Of course, my lady." She bowed briefly, even though the Warchief was still looking towards the throne.

"And Alina?"

"Yes?"

"You understand that the fact that my wife went to inspect the rumors concerning the Naga at the coast, had been kept from the public, to avoid a panic?"

"Of course, but my lady I don't under-, oh…"

"Yes, see to it that you find the traitor."

"Yes, my lady, we will not fail you."

"I know you won't."

She was about to turn away to carry out her orders when the Warchief spoke once again.

"I'll promise you, Alina. I'm going to ensure that this is going to be the last war the Alliance will ever fight." The Warchief swore quietly, the woman glanced over her shoulder to look at her, and the Warchief sounded so matter-of-factly at that moment, that Alina would have believed her anything.

The Dark-Ranger looked her Warchief in the eyes and nodded once, she quickly spun around on her heel to leave the room. Alina had just reached the door when a soft and broken whisper reached her ears, causing them to twitch as she tried to focus on the words.

"I miss you already so much my love, but I'll promise you _Sylvanas_, they are **not** going to get away with this, every single one of them is going to pay."

Alina closed her eyes as she stepped through the door. The grief in her new Warchief's voice was too much to bear, coupled with her own feelings of loss the entire thing felt unbearable.

The death of Sylvanas Windrunner had once again shocked the world, but this time Azeroth would burn until only one side would be left to rise from the ashes. Alina smirked as she stepped into the midday heat of Ogrimmar. It was almost funny if it would not have been so sad, that it had always been Jaina who had kept the peace between the Horde and the Alliance during their marriage. And now with Sylvanas gone, she would be the one to ensure the complete annihilation of the Alliance.

* * *

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this quick one-shot.

For those who have no idea what's going on, I wanted to write this as vague as I could, because of the twist:

Jaina and Sylvanas enter an arranged marriage sometimes after the events of Legion, they fall in love somewhere along the way, and also BFA does not come to pass. They are married for ten years, but then Sylvanas is killed by an assassin, and now Jaina is out for revenge. That's it, there is nothing more to it…

I'm not sure yet but maybe in the future, I'm going to add more to this small piece. And evolve it into a full story. But if I do, I'm going to post an update here, so it would not hurt to hit this with a fav or a follow.

I'm still working hard on chapter 3. I hope, cross your fingers, that I finish this before the end of the weekend.

So, maybe leave a constructive review down below. Maybe even a fav, or follow the story as that would really make my day.

Thank you very much, this is ScouterFight and I'm out :D.


End file.
